


Whispers of the Wolf Maid

by Name_Pending



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Ned feels guilty, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 11:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11668491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name_Pending/pseuds/Name_Pending
Summary: Ned Stark never talked about his sister after the war. There was a reason for that.





	Whispers of the Wolf Maid

**Author's Note:**

> This is largely based on the show, but the final scene is based on pages 61-63 in the first book, in which Catelyn refused to allow Jon to stay at Winterfell after Ned leaves for King’s Landing and Maester Luwin told Ned that Jon wanted to join the Night’s Watch.

Ned Stark did not like to talk about his sister.

There was a time, not so long ago, when this was not true. During his time at the Vale with Jon Arryn and Robert Baratheon, Ned spoke of his family often, Lyanna included. It was easy then, especially with Robert. Robert loved talking about Lyanna - he liked to talk about her smile, her hair, the way she was going to look in her bridal gown on their special day - and Ned would indulge his sister’s betrothed. He told Robert much about his sister, though he omitted many details. He never told him that Lyanna wasn’t the perfect woman Robert imagined her to be, or that she had great doubts about his ability to make her happy. Nevertheless, he spoke often of her.

He talked about her a lot during the Rebellion, and not just with Robert. Lyanna was well loved by the Northmen, and he would speak of his kind but fierce sister’s kidnapping to them as a means of motivation. Robert did the same. The rebels fought to end the reign of terror that had been allowed to grow under the Mad King, and they fought to free Lyanna from his son’s control. Lyanna Stark was always a topic of conversation during the war, on both sides of the fighting and among those who only heard about the battles.

It was hard for Ned to stop talking freely about his beloved sister after the Rebellion ended, but he had done it.

After the war, Ned had spoken of Lyanna only to tell people that he had found her dead and had her body moved to the crypts of Winterfell, where she belonged. He had spoken of her with Robert but after the war, after Robert became king, he saw a great deal less of his dear friend. And when he returned to Winterfell, there were so many other things to talk about.

Some people asked, but he brushed them off. What the Lord of Winterfell did not want to speak of tended not to be spoken of. Ned made it very clear that he didn’t want to talk about his sister, not even with his closest confidants, his wife or his children.

Everyone believed that speaking of Lyanna caused him too much pain and brought up too many memories. They were right, in a way. Speaking of Lyanna was certainly painful and he had so many memories of his sister, from those of a joyful childhood to the horrific ones of her last moments. But the pain and the memories weren’t the reason Ned didn’t talk about her.

The real reason was simple and boring: it was just easier. It was easier to say nothing at all about Lyanna than it was to carefully select which things he could share with certain individuals. After all, there were certain things about Lyanna that he could not afford to let slip, not even to those he trusted most in the world.

He trusted his wife with everything else but Lyanna. His marriage had been hastily arranged, born of duty to his deceased older brother, but over time had blossomed into something more. When Ned had first returned to Winterfell after the Rebellion, his relationship with his near stranger of a wife was very strained and distant, but over time it had softened and the two now shared a warmth that could truly be described as love. He told Catelyn everything, except for the secrets about Lyanna.

He could never tell her that his sister was the reason their marriage had been tested so early. When Ned had rode to King’s Landing with an army, strong in his belief that they would be victorious after the Battle of the Trident, he had looked forward to being reunited with Catelyn. She was a stranger to him still, but she was his wife and, by that point, the mother of his child. He yearned to see her take her place at Winterfell, to hold his son in his arms for the first time; he was desperate to get to know the woman who had borne him his heir.

Yet when he actually returned to Winterfell, it was with a heavy heart and a secret so precious and sacred that he could not share it with her. Catelyn seemed joyful when he greeted her at the gates of the castle, when he finally got to hold his son in his arms. Catelyn had carefully slipped the squirming baby Robb into his arms and fussed over how he held the boy, politely instructing him on how to hold the baby carefully but securely.

“He’s perfect” Ned had told her, and Catelyn had beamed at him in agreement.

Ned had taken some time to be sure to introduce his wife to her new home and had arranged for a maid to see that Robb was placed in his new room. Catelyn had wanted to accompany him there - she never did like the maids tending to the children, wanting to be the only arms her children knew - but Ned had insisted that she remain with him. They had to talk.

Words had nearly escaped Ned as he’d explained the entire situation to his wife, reciting the speech which he had prepared for any who asked. The false story was one he now knew so well he could probably deliver it in his sleep. He was careful to keep it simple, to leave out details. It was a short story, appropriately delivered with shame and apologies. His ears had burned as he’d told her of the sleeping babe down the hall from the room where Robb had been taken.

Catelyn had stared at him and not spoken for several moments after he stopped talking. Then she asked to see the proof, and Ned had little choice but to lead her to the room which had been given to Jon and introduce his wife to his bastard son.

He stood above Jon’s cradle with his wife, watching as she looked down at the sleeping babe, so different in colouring to Robb. Robb, he’d noticed right away, had his mother’s look. Jon, mercifully, was born with the Stark colouring.

“What’s he doing here at Winterfell?” Catelyn had asked softly.

It pained Ned slightly (and still did after all these years) to realise that Catelyn was more surprised by Jon’s presence at the castle than she was by his existence. Ned was an honourable man who would never take another woman into his bed now that he had said his vows to Catelyn, and it pained him to think that she believed he could have. Still, many men did so; he tried to let it go, even if Catelyn couldn’t let go of the fact that Ned insisted on raising his bastard son alongside their trueborn children.

Their marriage became strained instantly, with Catelyn hurt and humiliated by Jon’s presence. Ned tried his best not to flaunt his bastard in front of his wife, but it was difficult. He was determined that Robb and Jon should grow up as brothers, and Catelyn’s closeness to her son necessitated that she was often around Jon, especially when the boys were very young. It became easier only as Jon got older, as he and Robb both learned what the term ‘bastard’ meant. In those early years, though, Jon’s presence strained Ned’s marriage in an uncomfortable way.

It would have been easy then to just tell Catelyn the truth, to clear his name of dishonour and speak freely of his sister, but it would not have been safe and so he remained silent.

As the years went past, Ned refused to speak of Lyanna, even as his trust in Catelyn grew into something forged by time and resilience, stronger than steel. After all, speaking of Lyanna was one step closer to speaking of her secrets, and to speak of those secrets meant speaking of the truth.

Ned was never sure that he would be able to talk freely about his sister without slipping into talking about her son. As Jon grew, he began to look more and more like his mother, like a Stark. It irked Catelyn but it gave Ned comfort and strength. Looking at Lyanna’s son, watching his dear sister live through him, was enough to remind Ned of why he had to keep the boy safe.

That did not mean that it wasn’t difficult. Sometimes keeping quiet about Lyanna was more difficult than he could have imagined. Ned could remember two particular incidents when his soul had screamed at him to talk about Lyanna, and been ignored.

/

The first was when Jon was still very young, when he and Robb were the only children Ned had. Catelyn had reached out to him recently and their relationship was growing into something new, something better; he had hope that soon it would blossom into something like a real, warm marriage. Robb was nearing his third nameday then, and he and Catelyn had been discussing whether or not they should hold a celebration in his honour. Ned had thought Robb too young to bother with it, but Catelyn leant towards the idea of a celebration in honour of the future Lord of Winterfell.

The two had been deep in conversation about which guests would need to be invited when Catelyn had suggested inviting his brother Benjen.

“It would be good for Robb to meet his uncle, Ned. He’ll grow knowing Edmure, but Benjen is the only Stark uncle remaining to him. They ought to be familiar.”

Ned had been silent for a moment, lost in his sudden thoughts about his brother’s recent departure to the Wall. Ned hadn’t favoured Benjen joining the Night’s Watch (it was a great honour, of course, but Benjen was needed in the North) but he had been unable to convince his brother to stay. He glanced over at his wife.

“Benjen is a brother of the Night’s Watch. He won’t be able to ride here for every celebration we hold. Best to wait until Robb is older, when he will remember him better.”

Catelyn looked liked she wanted to argue. “I wish he had not taken the black” she confessed. “It would have been good to have him here to watch Robb growing up.”

“I wish the same, my lady.”

“Why did he do it, Ned?”

Ned remained silent, pressing his lips tightly together to stop the words he wanted to speak from spewing out faster than he could control. He knew why Benjen had taken the black. He knew why his younger brother had fled from Winterfell, fled from him and from the truth.

Benjen was the only person in the seven kingdoms to whom Ned had told the truth about Lyanna. Howland Reed knew, it was true, but only because he had been there at the Tower when they had found it was too late to save Lyanna, but not too late to save her son. Ned had planned to tell nobody, but had decided to tell Benjen out of respect for the bond his brother and sister had shared with one another. He knew he could trust Benjen, knew that his brother would never do or say anything to put their beloved sister’s child in danger.

He just hadn’t anticipated that it would be too much for Benjen to have to face the truth so closely. Benjen adored Jon, but after seeing how much the boy resembled Lyanna, he had told Ned sorrowfully that he could not face him every day. Ned begged him to simply take a holdfast in the North, to marry and raise his own children, but Benjen had other ideas. As the third son, the Night’s Watch had always been a viable option for his future and the weight of Lyanna’s secret, Ned’s secret, pushed him onto that path.

Now that Catelyn had brought up Benjen’s departure, he wished that he could tell her the truth. Ned wanted to explain to her the reason why she had left them the only providers for the future heirs of Winterfell, but there was no way to do it without speaking of Lyanna.

Catelyn glanced over at him, awaiting an answer.

Ned turned his gaze into the fire that warmed them. “There is great honour serving in the Night’s Watch, Cat.”

It wasn’t truly an answer, but it was all he felt able to give her.

/

The second time was at the beginning of the Greyjoy Rebellion. Ned had been walking in the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he did sometimes, when he was joined unexpectedly by his wife. Catelyn very rarely came near the crypts, and had not been feeling well that morning. She was with child again, she believed, though it was was too early to be obvious to anyone.

Ned had been standing in front of Lyanna’s statue, deep in sorrowful thought as he so often was when he faced her likeness, when Catelyn appeared next to him, telling him that a raven had arrived at Winterfell from King’s Landing. Ned opened the letter and read it by the candlelight of the crypts, and learned to his annoyance and shock that Balon Greyjoy was rebelling against Robert and the Iron Throne.

He faced his wife with a frown. “Robert’s asking for my assistance in fighting back against Balon Greyjoy. I’ll have to take men south.”

Ned did not sugar-coat what he said and Catelyn knew what he was saying. He was going to have to stand with his king and go to war once again, albeit on a less grand level. The two stood in the crypts together, standing close as they took advantage of their solitude to discuss the near future in light of the Greyjoys’ betrayal.

“I will pray that you return for the birth of this babe.” Catelyn took his hand and placed it over her womb and she tried to smile. “We’ll have to choose names before you go, for a boy or a girl, just in case.”

“Aye. We’ll do that tonight” Ned gently told her, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“I’ll pray you aren’t gone so long this time, Ned.”

“I won’t be” he reassured her, pulling his wife into his arms and treasuring the fact that their relationship had grown to the point that he felt comfortable doing so, knowing that she would be pleased with the embrace. “Robert says the Greyjoys have burned the fleet at Lannisport. Tywin Lannister won’t stand for that. With his forces, it will be a short rebellion.”

Catelyn simply nodded and told him that she would pray for his safety and for a quick victory.

Ned had spent the rest of the day preparing for the coming battles, and had ravens sent to his bannermen and to King’s Landing, promising the king that the North would serve the realm and help to quash the rebels. By nightfall, he found himself in his wife’s chambers, discussing names for the coming babe.

“If it’s a boy, we should name him after my father. Or my brother.”

Catelyn took his hand and placed her cheek upon his naked chest. “Brandon Stark. That sounds nice. Or Benjen?”

“Brandon” Ned confirmed. “What if it’s a girl? We could name her after your mother?”

Catelyn frowned. “Minisa Stark? Perhaps not, Ned. If I recall correctly, my father said my lady mother never cared for her name. Do you want to use your mother’s name instead?”

Ned shook his head. “Not really.”

“What about your sister’s? Lyanna Stark sounds lovely.”

Catelyn’s tone was light, but Ned stiffened instantly.

A daughter of his with his sister’s name? For a second Ned considered it. He would love to honour his sister that way, would love to tell his daughter that she had been named for her aunt. But it just was not possible. Ned imagined how much it would hurt calling for his daughter across the courtyard, calling that name. Hearing his sister’s name always brought a pang of loss and pain and a hot flash of guilt; he could not bear to feel that every time he spoke to his daughter.

Besides, the guilty, truthful part of himself reminded him, it was not his name to gift a child; if anyone alive had the right to name a child for his sister, it was surely Jon Snow. One day - a day that was so far in the future it was coming slower than winter but nonetheless coming - he would tell Jon the truth about his parentage. Then, perhaps, on an even later day, Jon would name his own daughter Lyanna. The thought of holding his future great-niece, his future granddaughter, named Lyanna was one that warmed him.

The thought of holding his own daughter with his sister’s name filled him with ice.

Catelyn raised her head, feeling his body stiffen. “Ned?”

“Not Lyanna” he said gently, but firmly.

“You don’t like the name?”

Ned’s conscience screamed at him. He desperately wanted to hold this beautiful wife of his in his arms and tell her that the name was not the problem. He wanted to confess everything to her, to tell her why he could never name his daughter after his sister, to speak freely of his sister and hold nothing back from his wife.

But the thought of the secret getting out, even the tiniest possibility of Robert Baratheon finding out the truth, was enough to keep his lips sealed. No matter how much he wanted to, he could not tell Catelyn the truth. He could not endanger Jon that way; he loved the boy, and he had promised Lyanna that he would be safe. He could not tell his wife that the thought of hearing the name ‘Lyanna Stark’ every day brought up so many feelings of guilt and fear that he simply could not bear it.

Instead he simply shrugged and pulled Catelyn’s warm, unclothed body against his. “No, I’ve never liked it. Lyanna wouldn’t want us to name a babe for her, I think.”

“Oh? What name would she have liked, do you think?” Catelyn’s tone was light, teasing. She had no idea of the weight of such a question.

And so Ned swallowed hard - swallowed down the truth and the name that he had heard slip from his dying sister’s lips five years ago, a name that he had never spoken - and forced a smile for Catelyn’s sake. “I don’t know, Cat. But I do know of a girl’s name that I might choose.”

“And what’s that?”

“Arya.”

/

As the years went by, Ned found it easier to not speak of Lyanna. Perhaps it was simply that he became used to it over time. Perhaps it was that as time went by, his thoughts focused less and less on his sister and more on the child she had left him. He loved Jon like a son, and the thought of the boy calling him uncle instead of father was one that began to pain him. He knew that one day he would have to tell Jon the truth, but it was not a day he was eager for. Speaking of Lyanna would be a reminder that that day would have to come, and it became easier to not speak of her for that reason.

The people of Winterfell respected their Lord’s unspoken but clear desire not to discuss his sister or her fate. Talk of Robert’s Rebellion was permitted and Ned himself spoke of various parts of it, even to his children, but the talk rarely delved into the role that Lyanna played in it. Various people mentioned it over the years, and the children knew that the war began because of her kidnapping, but Ned himself never discussed Lyanna’s part in the beginning of the fighting, or of her death. People tended to quickly get the hint that any mention of his sister caused him discomfort, and virtually all were courteous enough to avoid any such discussion.

By the time that Robert Baratheon arrived at Winterfell and visited Lyanna’s statue in the crypts, Ned found that it felt almost strange to be talking about his sister. It had been a long time indeed since had spoken her name.

/

Now, Ned stood in the warmth of the bedchamber, a thousand thoughts running through his mind as he watched Maester Luwin leave the room and faced his wife. He had already decided to accept Robert’s damned offer of becoming the next Hand of the King, and had decided to take Sansa, Arya and Bran with him to King’s Landing. Robb and little Rickon would remain at Winterfell with Catelyn. And Jon would be leaving for the Wall.

Ned saw the satisfaction in Catelyn when the Maester announced that Jon aspired to join the Night’s Watch and it angered him, as did her blatant refusal to allow the boy to remain at Winterfell with Robb once Ned left for the Capital. She was tactful enough to say nothing, but the expression on her face had given her away. It had not yet truly faded as he looked at her now.

“Preparations will have to be made for your travels” Catelyn said quietly, and he could tell that although she understood that he must leave, she did not like it.

“Aye. And we must tell Bran and the girls to pack their things.” Ned knew he was deliberately turning the conversation to something lighter, but he did not care.

“Half of what they have will be too hot and heavy for King’s Landing” Catelyn said, knowing what he was doing but going along with it anyway. She probably wanted to avoid any more disagreements for one night. “They’ll need lighter clothes, the girls especially.”

“I’ll see to it as soon as we arrive.”

A somewhat uncomfortable silence fell over them. With the revelation from Catelyn’s sister about Jon Arryn’s murder, they both knew that Ned would have bigger priorities in the Capital than his daughters’ clothes.

“When will you tell them?” Catelyn asked, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere in the room.

“I’ll tell Bran and the girls on the morrow” Ned answered, moving around the room restlessly, straightening things that didn’t need straightening as he tried to organise his thoughts. “Do you think they can keep it a secret? I’d rather let Jon enjoy the last few days of childhood he has left before I tell him of his journey to the Wall.”

Catelyn stiffened slightly; she always did when Jon Snow became the topic of discussion. “Sansa and Bran, possibly. I doubt Arya can keep her mouth shut, though.”

Ned turned thoughtful. “Perhaps I’ll leave it a day or two to tell them.”

“Ned, they’ll need time to pack and prepare for the journey.”

“They’ll have time.” Ned looked her in the eye. “Jon has precious few days left here, Cat. Packing won’t take long, anyway. You said yourself that half of what the girls have won’t be needed in King’s Landing.”

Catelyn pressed her lips together and he knew that was the wrong thing to say. He knew how his wife would take that - in her mind, she’d read it as him putting Jon’s interests before those of Sansa, Arya and Bran. But it couldn’t be helped. He truly did want Jon to have the last few days at Winterfell before he had to prepare for a long, life-changing journey. Who knew when he would return to Winterfell; Ned would just have to pray that it was not long until he saw his son, his nephew, again. Catelyn didn’t understand, but he couldn’t change that.

 _You could change it_ , a voice in his mind whispered, and he physically shook his head to rid himself of it. He knew that.

He knew that he could tell Catelyn the truth, knew that he could tell her about Lyanna and Rhaegar and Jon, knew that she might better understand if she realised that they were sending a boy with a claim to the Iron Throne to live out his days at the Wall.

He was ready to tell his wife the truth. But he wouldn’t, not yet.

After all this time, Catelyn could wait a little longer. He knew that he would tell her one day, but only after he had told Jon. With the relationship between Catelyn and Jon strained and lacking any semblance of closeness, it was only fair that Jon know his own truth before Catelyn did. She would be the first person Ned told after Jon.

Jon, though, was not ready to hear it, and so Catelyn could not. Ned would have dearly loved to use this opportunity to speak of the truth, to speak of his sister, to his wife, but it was not the right time. Ned would know when the time was right, and then he would speak freely about his sister and her secrets and her son. When the time came.

The knowledge that the time, like winter, was coming but not yet here remained in his mind as he turned the conversation away from Jon and towards the journey he would soon take south with Bran and his daughters.

It remained there, also, some time later when he sat his horse alongside his bastard son, as Jon Snow asked him about his mother for the first time in a long time.

He wanted to tell Jon everything, to tell him everything about Lyanna. He could not give Jon his mother back, but he could tell him everything he remembers about Lyanna.

He wanted to tell Jon about his mother’s spirit and kindness, and he wanted to assure Jon that his mother loved him deeply and used her last words to ensure his safety.

But the time was not yet right to speak of Lyanna. And here, in the royal procession with Robert Baratheon so close, it was most definitely not the place to speak of her secrets.

He tried to smile at his bastard son, his secret nephew. “The next time we see each other, we’ll talk about your mother. I promise.”

It was the best he could do at that moment.


End file.
